


critic

by vagarius



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26228584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagarius/pseuds/vagarius
Summary: The space is good for this too, he supposes.
Relationships: Minagi Tsuzuru/Miyoshi Kazunari
Comments: 10
Kudos: 98





	critic

**Author's Note:**

> "cant believe telling him i want to give him head fucking worked" yes this is about the latest kazu museum card yes he came home yes i am fulfilling a promise rn

"Tsuzurun!" Kazunari shouts, waving his arm wildly. "Your shift is finally over, right? Right?"

Tsuzuru sighs, pulling off his lanyard. "Yes, it's over."

"Yay!" Kazunari cheers, then grabs onto Tsuzuru's wrist. "I know you're like, the expert around here, but I did some research and – "

Tsuzuru lets Kazunari ramble about the different museum exhibits while they walk, Tsuzuru recognizing the names but not the details. He knows the museum layout well, by now, but has yet to take the time to appreciate any of the artwork, so he lets Kazunari lead the way, trusting him to know what's worth checking out. Kazunari lets go of his wrist whenever they enter one of the museum rooms, rushing forward to look at whatever painting caught his eye up close.

Tsuzuru finds himself observing Kazunari more than the artwork itself, his sweater oddly flattering along his frame. He looks a bit like a stuffy student, with his dress shirt peeking out above the sweater, but the collar looks nice against his neck.

Tsuzuru shakes his head, then finally tears his gaze away from Kazunari, letting his eyes flit over the paintings surrounding them. _This one's pretty,_ he thinks, trying not to think about the number of times he's probably dusted its frame. "Miyoshi-san," he calls, "did you see – "

Tsuzuru trails off, stunned silent by the look on Kazunari's face. His lips and eyebrows are both slightly downturned, making his face seem more angular than usual. But more than the concentrated frown or the dip of his brow, Tsuzuru is captivated by the brightness of his eyes, trained intently on the painting in front of him, like he wants to burn every detail into his memories.

Tsuzuru stares.

_… Shit, he's hot._

_I want him to look at me like that._

"Tsuzurun?" Kazunari eventually calls out, the seriously expression melting into a more familiar, confused smile. "Is there something on my face?"

Without really thinking about it, Tsuzuru finds himself grabbing Kazunari's hand before dragging him out of the exhibit and down the museum hall. "Tsuzurun?" Kazunari yelps, his dress shoes – Tsuzuru cannot believe Kazunari wore _dress shoes,_ but he also won't deny they're kind of the cherry on top of the cake that is his endearingly nerdy ensemble – clicking on the polished wooden floor.

Tsuzuru navigates the museum with confident steps, eventually leading them to a door nearly hidden between two exhibits. After a quick glance around them, Tsuzuru pulls Kazunari behind the door, swiftly shutting it behind them.

The stairwell they enter is lit by a line of windows above them. The stairs themselves are incomplete, Tsuzuru knows, stopping halfway to the second floor. The door, which Tsuzuru had discovered early on when he started working, is apparently only used as an emergency exit, now. During work, he uses it as a hiding place whenever writing inspiration strikes, or when the Spring Troupe group chat is particularly rowdy.

The space is good for this too, he supposes.

"Tsuzurun…?" Kazunari questions as Tsuzuru positions him under the stairs and against the wall. He giggles awkwardly. "Do I have like, a really embarrassing stain or something? Is that why you dragged me here?"

"No," Tsuzuru answers, then drops to his knees. "Now be quiet."

"Tsuzurun!" Kazunari exclaims, then immediately covers his mouth. He lowers his voice. "Should we really be doing this here?"

Tsuzuru rests his head on Kazunari's hip, laughing a bit at Kazunari's reaction. "How do you know what I'm doing? Maybe there _is_ a stain on your pants."

Kazunari rolls his eyes, hands dropping to his sides as his shoulders relax. "Well, is there?"

Tsuzuru drags his hands along the edge of Kazunari's sweater. "No," he murmurs, then unhooks the button of Kazunari's slacks.

Tsuzuru wastes no time pulling down Kazunari's zipper and untucking his shirt, pushing the shirt and sweater upward and out of the way. He pulls Kazunari's pants down just far enough to mouth over his boxers, Kazunari squeaking when Tsuzuru's lips touch the fabric. Tsuzuru's free hand slides across Kazunari's stomach and up his waist, and Tsuzuru marvels at the smoothness of his skin. Kazunari's hands clench at his sides, tense against the concrete wall.

Kazunari breathing grows heavier as his cock hardens under Tsuzuru's lips, the fabric of his boxers growing damp with spit.

"Tsuzurun," Kazunari breathes, one of his hands reaching up to pet Tsuzuru's hair. Tsuzuru looks up at him while he unceremoniously pulls Kazunari's cock out of his boxers, Kazunari hissing through his teeth as his eyes flutter shut.

_Don't close your eyes,_ Tsuzuru thinks, stroking Kazunari a few times with his hand before capturing the head between his lips. He licks over the slit, sucking lightly around the tip. Kazunari hums shakily in response, his head tilting back against the wall.

Tsuzuru briefly pulls away to wet his lips before wrapping himself around Kazunari again, sliding his mouth further down Kazunari's cock. He pointedly sucks as he makes his way back up, pressing his tongue along the underside, then swirling it around the head once he reaches the tip. He repeats the action, relishing in the way Kazunari pants above him, lips soft and parted.

The gentle hand on Tsuzuru's hair eventually tightens into a harsh grip, fingers twisting into the locks as Kazunari unconsciously thrusts into Tsuzuru's mouth.

Tsuzuru chokes, and Kazunari's eyes flutter open, his grip on Tsuzuru's hair immediately loosening. "Sorry, Tsuzurun," he apologizes. "I didn't mean to – "

Tsuzuru slides down again before he can finish, Kazunari's cock hitting the back of his throat once more.

"Oh," Kazunari says, then lets his fingers curl back into Tsuzuru's hair as Tsuzuru swallows around him. His eyes start to slip close again, but Tsuzuru digs his nails into Kazunari's side, his gaze peeking upward to meet Kazunari's startled one.

Kazunari blinks down at him for a few moments, his cock still buried in Tsuzuru's throat, then brings his other hand to Tsuzuru's hair. Without breaking eye contact, he pulls his hips back before thrusting forward once more, carefully fucking himself into Tsuzuru's mouth. Tsuzuru's eyes starts to water, but he holds Kazunari's gaze, letting himself bask in the attention.

Kazunari pants wetly above him, his breath hitching as his thrusts grow sloppier. "Tsuzurun," he warns, and Tsuzuru wills his throat to relax as Kazunari comes, his fingers still holding Tsuzuru in place. Tsuzuru swallows around his cock as more tears build at the corners of his eyes. Throughout it all, Kazunari's eyes stay locked on his, eyes bright and focused like Tsuzuru's a piece of art from beyond the stairwell door.

With on final swirl of his tongue, Tsuzuru pulls off, panting for air as he wipes away the spit that had started to drip down his chin. Kazunari lets his head fall back against the wall again while Tsuzuru wipes his eyes.

"Can't say I was expecting that one," Kazunari breathes, then looks back down at Tsuzuru. His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Did you get off, Tsuzurun?"

Tsuzuru shifts, his cock rubbing against his pants, then shrugs. "I'll be fine," he says, then stands up to reposition himself under his waistband. "There were a few other exhibits you wanted to see today, right?"

Kazunari zips up his own pants, re-tucking in his shirt and smoothing out his sweater. He leans forward to peck Tsuzuru on the lips. "You're the best, Tsuzurun!" he chimes, before brushing his lips against Tsuzuru's ear. His voice lowers to a whisper. "I'll return the favor later, okay?"

Tsuzuru jolts away, his hand shooting up to cover his ear. "Miyoshi-san!"

Kazunari laughs, pulling Tsuzuru's hand back down to hold it in his.


End file.
